90 
RHINO AND GIRAFFES [ch. iv 
through the leaves, it shielded us from the vision of his 
small piglike eyes as we advanced toward it, stooping 
and in single file, I leading. The big beast stood like 
an uncouth statue, his hide black in the sunlight; he 
seemed what he was, a monster surviving over from the 
world’s past, from the days when the beasts of the 
prime ran riot in their strength, before man grew so 
cunning of brain and hand as to master them. So 
little did he dream of our presence that when we were a 
hundred yards off he actually lay down. 
Walking lightly, and with every sense keyed up, we 
at last reached the bush, and I pushed forward the 
safety catch of the double-barrelled Holland rifle which 
I was now to use for the first time on big game. As I 
stepped to one side of the bush so as to get a clear aim, 
with Slatter following, the rhino saw me and jumped to 
his feet with the agility of a polo pony. As he rose 1 
put in the right barrel, the bullet going through both 
lungs. At the same moment he wheeled, the blood 
spouting from his nostrils, and galloped full on us. 
Before he could get quite all the way round in his head¬ 
long rush to reach us, I struck him with my left-hand 
barrel, the bullet entering between the neck and shoulder 
and piercing his heart. At the same instant Captain 
Slatter fired, his bullet entering the neck vertebras. 
Ploughing up the ground with horn and feet, the great 
bull rhino, still head toward us, dropped just thirteen 
paces from where we stood. 
This was a wicked charge, for the rhino meant 
mischief and came on with the utmost determination. 
It is not safe to generalize from a few instances. 
Judging from what I have since seen, I am inclined 
to believe that both lion and buffalo are more dangerous 
game than rhino, yet the first two rhinos I met both 
